


Temporary

by heckyeah, sometimesiquestionmylifechoices



Category: One Direction
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, M/M, Pre-Canon, au meme, reality show
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-22
Packaged: 2017-12-22 22:08:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918587
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heckyeah/pseuds/heckyeah, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sometimesiquestionmylifechoices/pseuds/sometimesiquestionmylifechoices
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis did it on a bet. Harry did it as a drunk joke. Niall did it as his dream. Liam did it because he was expected to. Zayn didn't do it at all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hiiii!  
> This is my first collaborative work, yay!  
> Based on this au meme (http://lovedbyliam.tumblr.com/post/57736726831/au-meme-a-reality-show-about-five-complete)  
> Follow me at prostitutelou.tumblr.com

When Harry applied, it was four months before the season premiere, and he never thought he would get in. Gemma dared him, and he’d had a couple beers, so he agreed and she watched over his shoulder as he filled out the online application on his laptop. He honestly didn’t even remember hitting the “submit” button, but apparently he did, because two weeks later, he received a phone call from the producers of the show. They wanted him to come in for an interview. He consulted Gemma, and all that she offered as input was an indifferent “Why not?” so he called them back and agreed.

He thought the interview went okay, but apparently the producers thought it was absolutely fabulous, because a week later they phoned him saying he was going to be on the next season. He didn’t particularly object to being on the show, he’d just never thought much about it, but he thought the publicity would be fun and the money would be nice, so he agreed and phoned Gemma to tell her the news.

When Niall applied, it was two and a half months before the season premiere, and it was the fifteenth time since he’d hit the youngest age accepted into the house: eighteen. He applied seven times, the maximum amount that he ever sent in before he received a letter of complaint, for two years. He had been watching the show since its very first season aired when he was seven, and had dreamed of being on it ever since. Apparently 20 was his lucky number, because at that age the first application made some sort of impact on the producers, and he received a phone call a week later in the middle of filling out his second application of the year. He very readily agreed to come in for an interview and punched the air in excitement when they hung up.

He wasn’t nervous for the interview, not really. He didn’t get nervous. If they liked his personality on paper, they were sure to like him in reality, he was sure of it. And they did. They took a real liking to his confidence and his easy-going but boisterous character. His phone rang three days after the interview and he hung up even more excited than he had been after the first call.

When Louis applied, it was two months before the season premiere, and it was a bet. He and his two friends since childhood, Hannah and Stan, were hanging out in Stan’s flat, and Louis and Stan had both downed quite a few shots and Hannah was on her second wine cooler. She didn’t get drunk easy, but Louis and Stan were both pretty hammered. She’d looked them up and down and sighed.

“You know that shitty reality show, Temporary Home?” Louis didn’t respond, just looked over at her, and Stan just nodded sloppily. “You two would be perfect for it.” Louis’s brow furrowed.

“What?” His voice was murky and his words slurred slightly. “No, we wouldn’t.” Hannah nodded vigorously.

“Yes, you would.” Stan leaned forward.

“Let’s make this interesting,” he said, his voice slipping over itself like honey. “Lou and I both apply, and if they call us in for an interview for this season, we owe Hannah fifty pounds . . . _each_.” Louis nodded in agreement.

“Okay,” Hannah agreed, “but double if they call you back afterwards.” Stan looked over at Louis with raised eyebrows. He nodded again, and Hannah stuck her hand out. “Shake on it.” They both shook.

The two of them got called in for an interview a week and a half after they applied. Louis got a call two weeks after his interview and when he phoned Stan and Hannah to give them the news, they both laughed for the first two minutes of the call. Louis and Hannah debated for a little while over whether or not he had to do it, but she finally won on the argument that “it didn’t make sense if he didn’t actually go on,” so he reluctantly called the producers back and accepted.

When Liam applied, it was a month and a half before the season premiere, and it was really just a formality. He was the producer’s son, and he knew he was going to get in. He had the exact personality to get on, plus the power to make sure his application was read. Sure enough, he received a call two days after he applied.

The interview went as smoothly as possible, and they called him the next day. He accepted calmly, expecting nothing less, but still excited.

Zayn didn’t apply. Perrie did it for him, and didn’t tell him about it until he rung her after the call from the producers asking for an interview. She giggled at him when he explained why he was calling, annoyance in his voice.

“I applied for you. That’s funny, I never thought you would get in. Can you see yourself on something like that? It’s crazy. I guess they’re looking to appeal to a different type of audience.” Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Perrie, I have absolutely no desire to be on this show, and now I have to go in for an interview because of you.” Her sparkly laugh came through the phone again.

“You actually told them yes?”

“Yes! What was I supposed to do? I had no idea why they were calling me, so I couldn’t give them a reason for me _not_ to come in. I am extremely angry with you.”

“No, you’re not,” Perrie teased. Zayn sighed.

“I know, I’m not.”

“You love me.”

“I’d love you more if you had a penis.” Perrie fake sighed.

“If only.”

The interview was a bit rocky from Zayn’s point of view. He was sure that he wouldn’t get through, but to his dismay, he received a call two days later. He was about to decline, just waiting for them finish talking before he could say no.

“Oh, and the pay is 2,000 pounds per episode. So, what do you think?” Zayn balked.

“Wait, how much?”

“2,000 pounds. But it’s open to go up if we get better ratings.”

“Yes,” Zayn said quickly. “I – yes.” The producers thanked him and they hung up. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and dialed Perrie.

“You aren’t _serious_ ,” she exclaimed.

“I am.”

“Why?” she asked incredulously.

“The pay is two thousand pounds per episode, Per. And that’s just the starting pay. It can go up if the ratings are good.”

“Well, have fun, I guess.”

“But I don’t know anything about the show.”

“There’s not a lot to know. It’s just a dumb reality show. You move into a flat with four people you’ve never met before for ten months. It premieres in, like, a month. You get paid and then you go home, and five new people move in next season. They stock you with food and everything. It sounds pretty sweet, I guess. You don’t have to work for ten months.”

“I guess.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Zayn was the first one to move into the flat, and he had to be there by 10:00 AM. He arrived, groggy and blurry-eyed, his suitcase, duffel bag, and pillow in tow. The “flat” was hardly a flat, it was its own building in the middle of a city block in London. It just _looked_ new, all sleek, square glass and silver metal. The producers had called him a few days ago, telling him that he would be the first to come, and his flatmates would arrive at hour intervals. They had sent him a key in the mail and he used it to unlock the door.

The flat was huge – tall ceilings and surprisingly open considering its crowded surroundings. Immediately to his left was the kitchen, fully stocked with appliances, cereal boxes and bread littering the top of the fridge; a large, empty island right in the middle of the space. To his right was a lounge area with a brown leather L-shaped couch covered in manila coloured pillows and an off-white blanket; a cream recliner that sagged in on itself, and the largest flat-screen television Zayn had ever seen.

He abandoned his luggage at the door and wandered farther into the flat. He walked straight forward and was greeted with a similar set-up to the one at the front door, but more closed off. One bedroom to his left, and another to his right. He opened the door of the one on his left. One bed was on either wall, and the walls were painted a pale purple. The beds had plain dark blue-ish purple comforters, and a small lounge area with three oddly circular light blue chairs and a dark purple, fuzzy rug in between them was in the back of the room. A black curtain, pushed all the way back to one edge of the curtain rod, was at the very back center of the room. Zayn looked up, and saw that the rod ran all the way across the room, so the curtain could be closed to make each side private. He stepped closer to the bed to his right and he noticed a white piece of paper with gold trim that read “Harry” in black, fancy script. He turned towards the other bed and noticed a similar paper that read “Louis.” Obviously, this wasn’t his bedroom, so he turned back towards the door and went into the other room.

This was one was bigger, with off-white based walls with diagonal red stripes in two opposing corners of each wall. There were three beds, one directly across from him, one to his left, and one to his right, each with a dark red comforter. A larger, grey version of the purple rug in the other bedroom lay in the center of the room, and dark, mahogany dressers sat at the end of each bed. A similar curtain set-up was on the ceiling, except this one was in a T-shape, allowing the room to be divided in three.

The bed to his left had a paper reading “Liam,” the one in the back read “Niall,” and the one towards the left read, finally, “Zayn.” He left the room, going back out towards the door, and noticed an area in front of the kitchen that he had missed on the way to the bedrooms. As he explored, he saw that there were two rooms in the area, one a large bathroom with two standing showers, a Jacuzzi bathtub, and a large sink area. The other room was just a couch in front of a bunch of techy lights and cameras. Zayn assumed it was a sort of “diary room:” a place where each of them would go and give their thoughts about anything going on in the flat. He returned to the door and retrieved his luggage, pulling it back to the red bedroom.

Zayn had just finished unpacking as he heard the door open. He stood up, shoved his suitcase and duffel bag under his bed, and went out to meet his new flatmate.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Niall grinned at the dark-haired boy walking towards him from the back of the flat. They were about the same height, but this boy looked like a model. Black hair swept up in a quiff, high cheekbones, long eyelashes framing light brown eyes, and a thin body wired by muscle. He wore a light denim jacket pushed up past his elbows over a black graphic t-shirt, dark jeans, and black boots. His right arm was almost completely covered in tattoos, and a couple poked out above the collar of his shirt.

He gave Niall a small smile and held his hand out as they got in conversation distance.

“I’m Zayn,” he greeted, and Niall grabbed his hand and pulled him into a hard bro hug.

“’M Niall,” he said as Zayn’s hand patted his back awkwardly. They drew back and Zayn raised his eyebrows.

“Irish?” Niall grinned.

“Yeah, I’m from Mullingar. Been watchin’ the show since it first aired when I was seven. Wanted to be on it my whole life.”

“Seven, so you’re . . . how old?”

“Nineteen, I’ll be twenty on September 13th, in twenty days.”

“Oh, I’m twenty now, my birthday’s in January.” Niall was already distracted as Zayn trailed off, looking around and up in amazement at the flat.

“Pretty sweet,” he said happily. Zayn nodded and followed as Niall went back to look at the bedrooms.

“You’re rooming with me and someone else named Liam in the red room.”

“Who’s in the other one?” Zayn shrugged.

“Two lads named Harry and Louis.”

Niall went out the back, through a door near the diary room that Zayn had missed completely. A pool splayed out in front of them, clear, bright blue water, surrounded by lounge chairs, a rack of white towels with blue stripes near the side of the building. When he finished exploring, Niall trotted happily back to the bedroom and began to unpack. Zayn sat on his own bed and they talked while Niall organized his space. Niall was ridiculously talkative, taking up more than half of the time before they heard the door open again.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zayn liked Niall, he really did, but the next boy through the door immediately captured his full attention. He was slightly taller than both he and Niall, with short brown hair pulled into a mini-quiff, an almost puppy-like face with soft brown eyes, an elbow-length cotton shirt, light jeans, and black Converse. He toted one large red suitcase that looked impossible to bring anywhere, but he pulled it with ease.

He shook Zayn’s hand and introduced himself as Liam before Niall pulled him into a big bro hug just like he had with Zayn.

Liam looked around, not much amazement or wonder showing on his face, especially in comparison to Niall. He seemed unsurprised by the size of the flat, but not in a snobbish way. He emanated a friendly aura, polite and smiley, normally what Zayn would find sickeningly sweet, but he took an immediate liking to Liam and was ecstatic that they would be sharing a room together. And the biceps bulging underneath the black sleeves of the cotton shirt definitely didn’t have an impact on that.

Liam had been excited about his flatmates, and was definitely pleased with the two he’d met so far. Niall was bubbly and sweet and just seemed fun in general, but Zayn definitely was his focus. The boy was really model-esque, all perfect bone structure and flawless skin and bright eyes and dark hair. He was quiet, although anyone would seem quiet next to Niall, and slightly mysterious, and he really made Liam wonder what he would be like when he opened up.

Since Liam got there around lunch time, he didn’t unpack, simply dragged his enormous suitcase to the red room and the three of them went to have lunch. Niall made grilled sandwiches that turned out really excellent, and pretty much right after they finished eating, their next flatmate came through the door.

He was tall, lanky, and pale. He carried a medium-sized blue suitcase and a large blue duffel bag. He set the bag down and stopped the suitcase and stood in the doorway, grinning at the three other boys, his grin reaching up and crinkling the corners of his green eyes as deep dimples dipped into his cheeks. He ran a large hand through his brown curls, shaking them slightly.

“Hi,” he greeted cheerily, drawing out the word in an almost musical tone. Niall greeted him like he had the other two, who shook his hand and introduced themselves. He told them he was Harry, and that he was nineteen, to be twenty in February. Niall giggled at this, happy to not be the youngest in the group.

They took him around, showing all the places of the house, the pool, diary room, and everything else. The grin was present on his face the whole time.

They all piled into his room when he went to unpack, Niall making himself comfortable on top of Harry’s bed and Liam and Zayn sitting in the blue chairs, which were surprisingly comfortable. He and Niall chatted comfortably, Zayn and Liam occasionally tossing in opinions or comments but mostly just checking each other out from the corners of their eyes. Niall noted this but said nothing, just smirked and continued his talking with Harry.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Louis stood outside the door of the flat. He turned the small, silver key over in his hand, the teal ribbon it was attached to brushing against his wrist. Taking a deep breath, he grabbed the handle of his large black suitcase and unlocked the door.

He walked in slowly, taking in the modern decorations and high ceilings. Almost immediately, there was a group of four boys barreling towards him from the back of the flat. He smiled hesitantly at the leader of the oncoming group, a blonde boy with a wide grin, bright blue eyes, dressed in a navy short-sleeve open button-up shirt over a white t-shirt, dark jeans, and white tennis shoes. The boy pulled him into a sudden bro hug, and he exhaled in a gust of surprise. He introduced himself as Niall when he pulled back, and Louis smiled at him, a little overwhelmed, and turned to the three other boys.

He shook hands with a muscular brunet with a friendly smile who gave his name as Liam, then with a dark-haired boy who looked like someone straight off a magazine cover who said he was Zayn. As Louis turned to the final person, his eyes widened.

The final boy holding out his hand was absolutely gorgeous. Tall, curly hair, bright green eyes, dimples, wiry but defined muscles under his white button-up shirt, tight black jeans clinging to the best legs Louis had ever seen on a boy, and worn brown boots that looked like they had a real story to tell. There wasn’t an unattractive trait on his body, and Louis felt ridiculously paled in comparison with his tiny stature, black t-shirt advertising the Killers band, black jeans, grey Vans, and red beanie covering half of his feathered, thin brown hair.

Amidst his ogling, Louis realized that the boy’s hand was outstretched, waiting, and he hurriedly met it with his own. The boy introduced himself as Harry, and he offered a wide dimpled grin. Louis smiled in return, then reluctantly stepped back and gave his name to the rest of the group. They practically pulled him back to his bedroom, which he learned he would be sharing with Harry. His tummy jumped a bit at that, but there was no time to think about it, as everyone was bombarding him with questions about his age, home town, job, and everything else they could think of. He informed them that he was twenty-one, from Doncaster, and was currently unemployed, as he had worked in a music store that wasn’t going to permit him ten months’ vacation.

They sat in his room through the entirety of his unpacking, Niall and Harry most actively asking question and talking with him, but after he finished they all went to the kitchen, where Zayn found a bottle of wine. They opened it and touched their glasses in a toast to a good ten months.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leave comments please we love you all

The boys stayed up quite late that night, talking and getting to know each other more. Even after everyone had gone to bed Louis and Harry were awake, sitting in their bedroom deep in conversation. They kept having to shush themselves and their laughter, worried they would wake the others. They got way too invested in their discussions, so much that after hours Harry yawned and Louis looked at a clock, realizing it was almost three in the morning.

“I think we should go to bed,” Harry chuckled.

“I think that would be logical,” Louis responded, standing up and walking to go turn the light off. Harry couldn’t help but notice Louis’s bum, quite large and quite round even in the too-large pair of pajama pants he was wearing. He had to force his eyes away before Louis turned around, and watched fondly as the small boy crawled into bed and bundled up under his duvet.

“Night, Harry,” Louis’s voice said, soft and quiet.

“Night, Lou,” Harry responded, closing his eyes.

~

It was the sound of Louis throwing his pillow at Liam standing in the doorway that woke Harry up. “Liam, it’s like eight in the morning, go away,” he groaned, stuffing his face into his pillow.

“Woah now,” Liam mumbled, mock-offended.

“I’m not waking up for at least four hours,” Harry agreed. “Get out.”

Liam shook his head with a chuckle and closed the door, and soon the two boys fell back asleep.

Zayn, on the other hand, couldn’t fall back asleep after being woken up. He knew Liam had attempted to make as little noise as possible, and although Zayn was quite a heavy sleeper, Liam’s soft footsteps had awoken him. He didn’t feel like getting up yet, and so he laid in bed and stared at the ceiling for what seemed like hours. When he finally decided to get out of bed, he shuffled through the hall to the kitchen, where he saw Liam sitting on the couch watching television.

Liam smiled perkily. “Morning!”

Zayn nodded with a sleepy smile in response and made his way to the fridge. It was full of food, all of which required preparation. He decided on a microwave dinner, the only item in the house that required almost no effort besides cereal.

“You’re eating that for breakfast?” Liam asked, standing up and walking to the kitchen to refill his tea.

Zayn shrugged. “Yeah?”

“Do you want me to make you something?”

“I . . . If you really want,” he replied, his voice still low and smooth from sleep.

“Okay!” Liam said excitedly, walking to the fridge. “You can go get ready or something, I’ll be here.”

Zayn made his way to his bedroom and grabbed his toothbrush and toothpaste, and then walked back through the kitchen to the restroom. He brushed his teeth and neatened his hair a bit, and then went back to the kitchen where Liam was scooping eggs and bacon onto a plate.

“Here,” he said, pushing the plate and a mug of tea towards Zayn.

“Thanks,” Zayn responded, his fingers brushing Liam’s. There was a mammoth of sexual frustration in the room, so much that when Harry emerged sleepily from the bedroom and saw the two boys sitting on the couch he could feel it, and slowly backed into his room.

He sat on his bed and checked his phone, acquiring a missed call from his sister. He dialed her number and called her back.

“Harry!” she squealed when she picked up.

“Hi,” he replied, his voice hushed so he wouldn’t wake Louis.

“How’re things going?”

“They’re cool. I’ve only been here a day, Gem,” he chuckled.

“Are you alright? Why are you talking all quiet?”

“Oh, Louis’s asleep,” he replied, looking over at the ball of blankets.

“No I’m not,” Louis chimed tiredly.

“Was that Louis?” Gemma asked. “Who is he? Did you sleep with him?”

“My roommate,” Harry emphasized. He heard Louis laugh a bit from across the room.

“Is he cute?”

Harry looked over at Louis again, who was shaking his fringe out of his face. “Very,” he whispered, quiet enough for Louis not to hear.

“Let me talk to him!” Gemma urged.

“No!”

“Harry,” she sighed. “I’m not going to say anything. I just want to meet him.”

“You can meet him another time,” Harry groaned.

“Harry, give him the phone,” she said sternly.

“Or else?”

“Give him the phone.”

He sighed. “Hey, Louis, do you want to . . . Talk to my sister?”

He laughed, crawling to the end of the bed. “Of course.” He reached his arm out and took the phone, and then sat back on his knees. “Hello?”

“Oh god, she’s going to say something,” Harry mumbled.

“Hi! Yeah, I’m Louis!” He paused, and then laughed. “Yeah!” He laughed again. “Definitely.” He smiled. “Thanks! Bye!” He smiled and hung up the phone, tossing it to Harry.

“What did she say?”

Louis smiled. “Nothing.”

Harry raised his eyebrow. “Really?”

“I’m gonna go make breakfast,” Louis replied, standing up and walking towards the door. “Want any?”

“Okay,” Harry replied, trying to think of what Gemma could’ve said. Knowing his sister, she definitely said something. He stood up and followed Louis into the kitchen. They both looked at Zayn and Liam, helplessly flirting on the couch. They didn’t even notice the two boys walk into the kitchen.

“I give it a week,” Louis mumbled, opening the pantry.

“Are they even aware of each other’s flirting?” Harry asked, cocking his head as he leaned on the counter.

“Probably not,” Louis murmured, focused on the contents of the cabinet. He pulled out a box of pancake mix. “Liam is oblivious to everything.”

“I feel like I’m intruding by watching them.”

Louis began to make the batter. “Like I said, I give it a week. Two at most.”

Harry furrowed his brows, already off the topic of Liam and Zayn. “So, my sister really didn’t say anything?”

Louis made a noise that was something of a squeak and an “uh-uh,” smiling down at the bowl. Harry sighed and walked away to retrieve his toothbrush.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A grin lit up Liam’s face in correspondence to the breathtaking one on Zayn’s. He was more than aware of their knees touching, and he dared to increase the pressure. He wasn’t sure if Zayn noticed, for his face showed no sign of it. He turned his attention back to what Zayn was saying about how he got on the show, about how his friend Perrie had auditioned for him. Liam felt the slightest bit of jealousy spark in his tummy as Zayn went on to describe Perrie, how _pretty_ and  _funny_ she was.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Liam blurted. A look of honest surprise crossed Zayn’s face.

“Uh – no. She’s my best friend, we’ve known each other since secondary school.” Liam nodded, slightly embarrassed. “I’m gay,” Zayn added after a pause. Liam raised his eyebrows, his mind freezing, then launching into an excited school girl frenzy.

 _Ohmygodohmygod he’s gay he’s gay he likes boys maybe he could like me oh my god_. He got so excited that he forgot to respond, and snapped to attention when he realized Zayn was waiting for some kind of response. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a voice from the kitchen.

“Really?” They both snapped towards the voice. Louis’s eyes widened; he hadn’t meant to interrupt their flirting. "I, uh – I mean, I am too,” he stammered.

Zayn offered no response, too shocked at Louis’s presence, so Liam finally managed to break the silence.

“Y-you’re awake.” Louis looked down at the batter in the bowl as he resumed mixing it.

“Yeah.” Liam glanced at the nearest clock.

“Noon already?” He stood and stretched. “I’d better shower.” He rushed off back to his bedroom, leaving Louis and Zayn alone.

After a moment, Zayn got up, grabbed a stool, and sat across the island from Louis.

“Hi,” he said cheekily.

“Hi,” Louis responded. He couldn’t help but feel insecure at the way that Zayn still looked like an Abercrombie model, even with fuzzy bedhead and sweatpants.

“So Liam’s pretty cute, yeah?” Zayn half-whispered, leaning in slightly.

“Yeah, I guess,” Louis said, smirking.

“Do you think he’s gay?”

“Are you serious? You couldn’t tell that he was flirting?” Zayn’s eyes widened.

“He was? Really? I mean, our knees were touching, but . . .”

“He was obviously flirting.”

“Wow,” Zayn muttered, so quiet Louis almost didn’t hear. “What about Harry and Niall? Harry’s pretty hot, and Niall isn’t bad either . . . what do you think?” Louis looked towards the bedroom to make sure no one was in hearing distance, and although the coast was clear, he leaned in towards Zayn and lowered his voice.

“Harry’s really hot.” He let out a tiny, surprisingly girlish giggle. “We were up talking late last night, and this morning his sister called him and I talked to her a bit. It sounds stupid, but I think we have, like, a connection.” He leaned back and shook his head at himself. “It sounds so secondary school-ish.”

“Who cares? Anyway, what did his sister say?” Louis grinned down at the bowl of pancake mix.

“Well –” Harry shuffled into the kitchen then, and Louis snapped his mouth shut.

“Morning,” Harry mumbled, oblivious to what had happened when he walked in.

“Morning,” Zayn answered cheerily. “Harry, can I ask you a question?”

“Mhm,” Harry hummed as he scanned the contents of the refrigerator.

“Do you think Liam is cute?” Louis froze, his eyes widening at Zayn, who winked at him.

“Guess so,” Harry said around a yawn. “He seems pretty interested in you, though.” He grabbed a carton of orange juice out of the fridge and poured himself a glass.

“Are you gay?” Louis held his breath. Zayn sure didn’t waste any time.

“Probably,” Harry said before raising the glass to his mouth and taking a large gulp. Louis bit the inside of his cheek in frustration. Harry was so  _iffy_ ; he wanted a definite answer to know if he should make a move. Zayn simply raised his eyebrows, waiting for an explanation. Harry shrugged. “I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about it.”

“Okay, so if you had to decide between kissing a guy and a girl right now, what would you choose?”

“Which one is hotter?”

“Equally hot.”

“The guy.” Louis couldn’t help but smirk as he turned to get a pan after Harry answered. That answer was good enough for him.

“Zayn, do you want any –” Louis stopped in the middle of the question when he noticed that the dark-haired boy’s brow was furrowed in what looked like concentration.

“Wait, so – I’m gay.” He pointed at Louis. “You’re gay.” Then at Harry. “You’re probably gay; Liam is possibly gay.”

“Honey, he’s gay,” Louis interrupted. Zayn snorted a laugh and waved his hand dismissively.

“So – do you think Niall’s gay? Do you think the producers planned it this way?”

“How would they know if we were gay?” Louis asked, mock offended. “I’m not exactly flaming.” Zayn raised a suggestive eyebrow at him.

“With an ass like that, you pretty much have to be gay.” Louis winked at Zayn and wiggled his bum as he turned around, causing Harry to burst out into a fit of laughter. “See, that would go to such waste if you had a girlfriend!” Louis laughed and poured the first pancake into the pan.

“We’ll have to ask Niall if he ever wakes up,” Harry mused, a little breathless from laughing.

“Ask me what?” The muggy, sleepy voice came from the entrance to the kitchen as Niall shuffled onto the seat next to Zayn.

“Speak of the devil.”

“We have a very pressing question for you.”

“If you want any pancakes.”

Harry’s, Zayn’s, and Louis’s voices all came at once and overlapped. Niall rubbed his eyes with both hands balled up in half-fists.

“What?” he mumbled. Louis spoke before anyone else.

“Do you want any pancakes, Niall?”

“Yes. Always.”

“Niall, are you gay?” Louis was a little shocked at how to-the-point Zayn was, but he kind of liked it. He liked Zayn; he was quirky and fun.

“How would I know?” Niall shrugged as he said this. “I guess I never really tried to come to a conclusion. I like people. Why?” Zayn shrugged.

“Because I think everyone in this flat is at least a little gay, and I think the producers might have planned it that way.”

“Well, there’s almost always relationship drama here, whether it be gay or straight or whatever.”

“Oh, that’s right, you’re like the superfan, aren’t you?” Harry said before taking another gulp of orange juice. Niall grinned.

“Yeah, I guess. I’ve always loved watching the show.” Louis turned around, a plate of pancakes in his hand.

“Well, maybe they wanted some boy-on-boy action this year,” he joked as he set the plate down and pushed it towards Niall.

“Who knows,” Zayn said under his breath, “maybe they’ll get it.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Zayn, Niall, and Louis spent a lot of the afternoon in the pool. Liam and Harry hung out together inside, just getting to know each other and getting more comfortable in the flat.

Harry got called into the diary room at about 6, and Liam looked up as the faceless voice filled the flat.

“Creepy,” Harry commented. “Must be an intercom system.” Liam nodded.

“They just got a new one last year. Something like twenty speakers all over the house.”

“Huh,” was all Harry had to say as he headed to the diary room.

He was greeted by a tall man clad in a light blue button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up, dark grey semi-formal pants, and black shoes with black hair and dark stubble that looked to be about twenty-five.

“Hi,” the man said, offering his hand as the door shut behind Harry. “I’m Luke, the director.” Harry shook his hand.

“I’m Harry.” Luke grinned at him.

“I know.” He gestured towards the couch. “If you’ll have a seat.” Harry sat, and realized that the couch was about five feet away from a large camera with a stool next to and slightly behind it. Luke took a seat on the stool, and another man was behind the camera, adjusting it slightly.

“As you and your flatmates have already inferred, this is the diary room. This is where you’ll come to give your input and thoughts on anything happening in the flat. You know. You’ve seen reality shows.” Harry nodded. “But before we get to that, there are a few basic rules and customs in the house. Well, there’s really only one custom: cameras are off on Sundays. We’re a bit different in this respect; we give our guests a small break each week. I know it can be exhausting to have every second of your life on film, so we give you that, and also you are free to participate in any religious practices. The season premiere is in six days, and filming officially starts in an hour. We haven’t filmed anything except for arrivals so far.” Luke smiled. “Good footage. Niall is friendly. Now, there is no violence in the house, and we are very strict about that. You  _will_ get kicked off the show if you show any violence or threat to your flatmates. That being said . . . kiss, make out with, even have sex with whoever you want.  In fact, we encourage it. Showmances get ratings, and ratings get both of us money. Of course, if you have sex it won’t be shown on live television, but we reserve the right to show any makeout sessions. But keep in mind that there are people editing the footage, so if you do engage in sexual activities on what we call on-days, basically Monday through Saturday, someone will see, even if they’re just cutting it out of what’s being aired. Does that all make sense?” Harry nodded.

“Good. Now for in here. It’s pretty easy, really. Just a one-sided conversation with the camera. Act like it’s your best friend. Don’t worry about what you’re saying, just talk. We can always edit things out, and we will. For today, just tell us what you think of your new flatmates. Maybe some of your first impressions. Sound easy enough?” Harry nodded again.

“Yeah, sounds great.”

“Great. Let’s get with it, then. Ready?”

“Sure.”

“Okay, in 3, 2, 1, go.”

It was a bit awkward at first, talking without any response. Harry started off a bit slow, talking about the house and how nice it was. He got a bit into the other boys, and Luke nodded and waved his hand encouragingly.

“The other lads are great. Niall is really open and funny, and really, really Irish. Liam is absolutely ripped – I ran into him after his shower this morning and it was like he was made of stone. He’s really nice, though, polite and everything. Zayn is like, one of the most gorgeous people I’ve ever seen. He looks like he walked out of a magazine. Really nice, though, and funny when he opens up. Louis is great. We get on really well; we share a room and stayed up talking late last night. He’s so tiny, too, and his hair kind of reminds me of a children’s movie . . .” Harry chuckled to himself. “I’m literally living with a leprechaun, Peter Pan, a Vogue model, and the Hulk.” Luke laughed out loud then, and Harry grinned over at him. “How was that?”

“Great, Harry, really good. You can go; we’ll call you in probably about every other day.” Harry nodded and thanked him before leaving.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

“How much wine is in there?” Harry asked as Zayn pulled a bottle out of the cabinet later that night.

“Tons,” he answered, “and more, too. Wine coolers, beer, champagne, hard liquor, you name it, they got it. But this is the good stuff.” He grabbed the corkscrew, popped the cork off, and poured two glasses.

“White wine,” Harry commented as he reached for one of the glasses. “Aren’t we going to ask the others to join us?” He jerked his thumb towards the back of the flat, where Niall, Liam, and Louis were hanging out in the red room.

“Yes,” Zayn said before taking a sip of the wine. “But not yet. We are each going to have a glass, and then I’m going to spur this house into action.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“See Harry, we’ve been in this house a little over a day now and there’s already obvious sexual tension.”

“There is?”

“Shh, just listen. Yes, there is. Whether you’re looking at me and Liam or you and Louis or just the whole flat in general with the whole gay thing, it’s so prominent you could cut it with a butter knife. I don’t know about you, but I was pretty much forced into this, so while I’m here, I want to have a little fun.”

“And by fun you mean . . .?” Zayn winked and drained the rest of his glass. He motioned towards Harry, who did the same.

“You’ll see,” Zayn said, taking he and Harry’s empty glasses in one hand, three new glasses in the other, and tucking the wine bottle in the crook of his arm.

“Why did we have to drink a glass before we do this?” Zayn grinned at him and started walking towards the back of the flat.

“So they don’t think we’re crazy.”

They got to the back of the house and Zayn nudged open the door to the red room. Niall and Louis were seated on Zayn’s bed, and Liam on his own.

“To the center, kids, we’re gonna play a game,” Zayn announced, and folded himself down onto the floor. Harry followed and soon the rest did too, sitting in a circle in the middle of the room.

“What kind of game?” Liam asked.

“A fun game, my dear Liam,” Zayn answered as he poured the five glasses a little over half full of wine. “But we have to finish this bottle first.”

Zayn was the first to drain his glass, and afterwards he reached behind himself under his bed and pulled out a checkerboard. Harry finished his glass next, then Niall. Liam hesitated at first, not really accustomed to drinking wine, but then decided it didn’t matter and downed the glass, Louis finishing at the same time.

“Lou, could you be so kind as to go grab another wine bottle?” Zayn pleaded, somehow transferring a puppy dog look into his tone. Louis obliged, and as they waited for him to return, Zayn set the checkerboard down in the center of them and the wine bottle on top of it on its side.

Harry glanced around the circle – to his right, Zayn, to Zayn’s right, Niall, to his right, Louis’s empty spot, and to the right of that, and Harry’s own left, Liam. Harry was directly across from the space between Niall and Louis, and with the growing suspicion he had about what game they were playing, that made him a bit nervous.

Louis returned quickly, handing the full bottle and a corkscrew to Zayn.

“Oh, God,” he muttered as he took in the set-up in the middle of the circle and returned to his spot. Zayn snickered as he heard this and refilled everyone’s wine glass.

“I assume everyone knows what this is?” Zayn inquired, his voice slightly deeper and softer than usual. Harry himself already felt a little bit of a buzz and he watched as Louis drained the entire glass in almost one gulp. Zayn refilled it for him without even being asked and a smirk started on Harry’s face when he realized exactly how Zayn had planned the night.

“I don’t –” Liam began, looking a bit uncomfortable.

“Spin the bottle,” Harry muttered, his smile growing when Zayn winked at him.

“Loosen up, Li,” Zayn urged. “That’s what the wine is for.”

“Who’s first, then?” Niall spoke, breaking a short personal silence, a smile growing slowly on his face.

“I’ll go,” Zayn volunteered, grabbing the bottle and twisting his wrist, sending it spinning on the board. They all watch as it slowed, taking a torturous amount of time to stop and land on Niall. Zayn didn’t seem fazed and motioned for Niall to come towards him and grabbed the back of his neck, pressing their lips together in an over-exaggerated, closed-mouth kiss. When they pulled apart, Niall had the same happy grin on his face as before.

“So Niall’s on my right, but since he just went we’ll go counter clockwise,” Zayn decided. “Harry?”

Harry grabbed the bottle, but Louis spoke before he could spin it.

“Don’t we have an absurdly small amount of people for this?”

“That’s what makes it fun,” Zayn said, his tone the slightest bit flirtatious. Louis shrugged, taking a sip of his wine, and Harry spun the bottle. He’d put less force behind it than Zayn, and it spun around only three times before slowing to land on Louis, who wordlessly leaned forward, over the board, his blue eyes watching Harry carefully. Harry leaned forward as well, his tummy dancing, and when their mouths met, it was a little sloppy and Louis caught more of the baby-soft area directly below Harry’s lip and above his chin rather than his lips, and Harry caught more of the barely stubbly area above Louis’s lip and below his nose, and neither of them were really sure if it could even be considered a kiss in that position, but they sure as hell weren’t going to pull away. Their semi-kiss lasted a bit longer than the first one of the game, but was still shorter than the cheers that Zayn and Niall let out when they kissed.

Liam was slowly looking more comfortable, his wine glass half-empty, and his eyes widened a bit when he realized it was his turn. He reached forward for the wine bottle and spun it, watching as it spun and spun and spun, finally slowing and stopping, right in line with Niall’s left knee. Niall grinned at him and leaned forward, and he did the same, their mouths meeting in what started as a hesitant, soft kiss, but then deepened, lasting longer than either kiss before it. Louis let out a whistle and they pulled apart, the same happy grin on Niall’s face as always.

The blonde boy quickly spun the wine bottle, everyone watching as it twirled and slowed, resting directly on Harry. Louis squirmed a bit and took sip of wine. Zayn eyed the clearly displeased expression on his face as Harry and Niall met in the middle of the circle. Louis noticed him watching when they pulled away and his cheeks tinted pink. Zayn winked at him and leaned forward to grab the bottle. It spun around slowly, only making on full rotation before stopping on Louis, who raised his eyebrows. Zayn grinned at him devilishly and leaned forward. Louis obliged, and their mouths met. Zayn kissed him hard, being surprisingly neat in his current state. Louis, a little overwhelmed, reciprocated, their mouths opening, hot breath slipping into each other’s mouths. Louis wasn’t really surprised when Zayn’s tongue dipped into his mouth, stroking the roof of it and skimming his teeth. Their tongues met and tangled together, and Zayn’s hand cupped the back of Louis’s neck, pulling him closer.

Liam glanced at the other boys as the scene in front of them unfolded. Niall was too busy draining his wine glass and refilling it to care, and Harry was so tipsy at this point that he was only watching with a lazy gaze. Liam felt his face heat up, half in embarrassment and half in jealousy. They two boys finally pulled apart and Harry immediately reached toward the bottle. It landed on Zayn, and Niall let out a woop.

“The bottle loves you,” Louis commented, his voice slurring slightly.

Zayn tasted of a mix of the two different wines they’d had. He wasted no time, kissing Harry hard just like he had with Louis, his tongue skating across the younger boy’s lip. Liam felt his face grow even hotter, and Niall whistled when the kiss branched into an awkward time frame. Louis watched with a blank expression as they finally pulled apart, the same stupid, dimpled grin on his face as always.

Liam sent the bottle spinning hard.

“Maybe you’ll get lucky like everyone else,” Zayn commented as the bottle began to slow. Liam waited for a second, then got up before it stopped and left the room. The rest of the boys watched as he left. Harry looked over to Zayn, his tummy dropping in empathy when he saw the hurt expression on the boy’s face. They sat in silence for a moment, Louis watching Zayn carefully, Harry and Niall both dumbfounded.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Louis snapped. Zayn met his gaze.

“What?”

“Go get him!”

“What?” Louis leaned forward.

“Go out there . . . and get him.” Harry and Niall both nodded in agreement, and after a second, Zayn got to his feet and hurried out of the room.

“Jesus,” Louis said, leaning back against Liam’s bed. “This is going to be a ridiculous ten months.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~

 

Zayn found Liam outside, his feet swinging in the pool. He took a deep breath and went to sit next to him. Neither of them spoke for a while.

“Hi,” Zayn finally attempted.

“Hi.”

“Um,” Zayn started, looking down at his hands. “If I . . . did something wrong . . . I’m really sorry.” Liam looked over at him, their eyes meeting.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then –” Zayn was cut off by Liam’s lips on his. His eyes widened in surprise, then slipped shut. Liam brought his hand up to cup Zayn’s jaw, and Zayn rested his hand on the boy’s forearm. They both tasted like alcohol and the kiss was a bit sloppy, but it didn’t matter because it was all either of them had been thinking of since Liam walked through the door.

They pulled  apart and Zayn searched Liam’s gaze with his own, but Liam simply got up and went back into the flat.


	3. Chapter 3

The next two weeks were fairly uneventful. They slipped into a regular routine after that night. Liam and Zayn both had been thrilled about their kiss, but neither had the guts to talk about it, or attempt it again. They developed a very strong friendship very quickly, despite the awkwardness the day after Spin the Bottle. Everyone got along fairly well in the house. Niall and Harry were laid-back and easy to live with. Louis was friendly and funny and slightly messy, but they all liked him anyway. He was the cornerstone of the house; if he was happy, everyone was happy. Whenever he got in a bad mood, the whole house soured. Zayn was lazy, but at the same time extremely entertaining, and Liam was fairly uptight, but Zayn possessed the ability to loosen him up. In fact, Zayn could loosen almost everyone up. He was the flirt of the house – always winking or smacking someone’s bum (usually Louis’s) and making casual innuendos. Harry eagerly flirted back, along with Niall. Louis became jealous easily, especially when it came to Harry, but he tried to stifle it. Besides, he flirted with Zayn too, although not nearly as much, and he didn’t want to be a hypocrite. Liam didn’t really flirt in return, but it was obvious that he didn’t mind.

“The lads don’t really understand personal space. I find it a bit strange. They’re all very comfortable around each other – not afraid to bunch together under one blanket, or lie face to face on the couch. I woke up one morning and Zayn and Niall were asleep on Zayn’s bed, their limbs all tangled, faces less than two inches apart. Not that I mind – I’m just not used to it,” Liam said thoughtfully in his third entry in the diary room. “Breakfast is awful. I mean, how many days in a row are we gonna eat cold pizza?” He grinned and shook his head. “Dinner is better – Harry and Niall can both cook alright . . . though they sometimes debate over which one is better.”

“Harry got mad at me the other day because I said I was the better cook,” Niall chuckled at the camera. “He insisted that because he’d worked in a bakery it was him, but I said no one could compete with my grilled sandwiches.” After some prompting from Luke, he went on. “Mornings are okay, I guess. I wouldn’t know – I’m never awake for them. Liam’s always up at the asscrack of dawn. I mean, I don’t even wake up til one pm. The other lads wake up before me, but not by that much.”

“There’s never a dull moment. I came home yesterday, the couch was on fire, Liam was holding a broke doll . . .” Harry sighed and shook his head. “I didn’t bother to ask how it had happened. I just helped put out the fire – I hope we don’t have to pay for that.”

“Ah, yeah, the couch fire. Are you sure it’s safe to live here? Things get pretty ridiculous. I mean, I’m usually the cause of things getting ridiculous . . . but the couch wasn’t me! The doll kind of was.” Zayn pinched the bridge of his nose. “These flatmates of mine – they’re something else. Louis just asked me if ‘comedic’ was a word . . . what the fuck am I doing here?” He sighed. “It’s not all _that_ bad, I suppose. Harry and I are getting to be pretty good mates.”

“The boys are all pretty fun to live with. Zayn in particular is funny – he’s got no idea what in the hell he’s doing here.” Louis laughed. “Niall is a blast, and he laughs so easily. I told one of my lamest jokes yesterday – my friends at home were probably cringing – and he laughed for five minutes straight. I’ve made it my goal to see how far I can push Liam, ‘til he punches me. He’s nice enough, but kind of uptight. Super ripped, too, so a punch from him would probably hurt . . . Harry and I got on particularly well. Out of all of them, I’m glad he’s my roommate. We’ve all gone down to the park a couple times and played football. Niall’s a decent footballer. Harry is just bloody awful; he usually sits on the sidelines and watches while Zayn and I play Liam and Niall.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a Friday, and Louis was getting seriously annoyed. Okay, maybe annoyed was the wrong word. Jealous. Envious. Whatever.

Maybe it was because of the way Zayn constantly _flirted_ with Harry, or maybe because Harry was constantly flirting back. Maybe because Zayn looked like he’d just stepped off a runway, or maybe the scene by the pool last night.

It had been about eleven pm and Louis was just wandering around the house. He’d been in the red room with Liam and Niall, left to go to the bathroom, and hadn’t quite felt like going back. He walked over to the glass door that led outside, looking out at the pool. Zayn and Harry had been swimming in it since almost seven, but now, although lighted, it was empty. Louis opened the door and quietly stepped out. He didn’t have to walk far before he saw it.

Harry was flat on his back next to the pool, and Zayn was on his hands and knees over him. They were hardcore making out – Louis could actually _see_ the tongue action. A drained wine bottle lay on its side next to them, along with two empty wine glasses. Louis watched for a moment, sick to his stomach and seething with jealousy. He watched as Harry’s hands found their way into Zayn’s dark, still wet hair and tightened. He watched as Zayn lowered himself so that his full weight was on Harry, their chests pressed together, along with . . . other things. Louis finally turned away and slipped back into the house. He stumbled back into the red room, where he joined Niall on Liam’s bed, lying down and resting his head on the blond boy’s thigh. Liam was on the floor, and he stared up at the ceiling as Louis relayed the events to them in a murmur.

Now, Louis was watching as Zayn walked up behind Harry and wrapped his arms around the taller boy’s waist. Louis’s teeth ground together and he forced himself to look away. He noticed Liam in a similar position next to him on the couch, except Liam looked more sad than angry. Niall was oblivious in the chair, his back to the scene. Louis’s eyes flicked back to the pair and he suddenly stood up. Zayn watched as Louis rushed back to the bedrooms, and he stepped away from Harry with a pang of guilt. Harry was oblivious to the scene, his eyes on the food he was preparing.

Liam soon wordlessly got up and headed back to the bedrooms. The door to the purple room was closed. He decided to let Louis cool off before talking to him, and went into the red room, shutting the door on the way.

Zayn watched as Liam left and sighed.

“I’m gonna go talk to Lou,” he muttered. Harry nodded, absorbed in his cooking and still oblivious. Niall was still sprawled out lazily on the couch, his eyelids closing and snapping open again every few seconds.

Zayn knocked on the door of the purple room. He received no answer, and cautiously opened it.

“Louis?” he called out. Still no answer. He stepped in to the room and saw Louis balled up on his bed under the comforter. The boy shifted under the blanket, and Zayn closed the door. “Lou, I know you’re not asleep.” Louis closed his eyes and let out a long exhale through his nose. “Harry likes you, y’know.”

“Really, Zayn, don’t pull that with me. I saw you two last night – by the pool.” Zayn swallowed thickly.

“You – you saw that?” He received no answer. “Louis, look, that doesn’t mean anything. We were drunk and we were just messing around. I promise, he likes –”

“Zayn, just leave me alone.”

“Lou –” Zayn cut himself off. He hesitated, then silently left the room. Louis tightened his hand around the comforter and bit the inside of his cheek, frustrated with Harry and Zayn and frustrated with himself for being frustrated.

Zayn closed the door to the purple room and found himself face to face with the closed door of the red room. On a whim, he stepped forward and knocked on the door. His mood improved slightly when Liam’s voice rung out, “Come in.”

“Hi,” Liam said softly when Zayn entered.

“Hi.” He joined the Liam on his bed, sitting face to face with him. Zayn put his head in his hands and groaned. “Louis is pissed.”

“Well, can you blame him?” Zayn’s head snapped up.

“Wait, you know too? Did you _see_?” Liam blushed.

“No, I – he told us.” He diverted his attention to a loose thread on the comforter.

“Jesus, Li. I’m so sorry, I don’t . . .” Liam shrugged.

“It’s fine. It’s not like I can get mad at you. We’re not in a relationship; I don’t have any sort of claim on you or whatever.” He got up from the bed and busied himself with something in his drawers.

“Liam, I –”

“Um, Zayn, if it’s alright, I – I kind of have a call to make.” Zayn nodded, a sick feeling in his tummy. He wordlessly got up and left the room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Zayn was moping in the chair, staring mindlessly at the telly and Niall was practically snoring on the couch when Harry decided to go talk to Louis about an hour later. Zayn had mumbled a retelling of what had happened, and Harry had absolutely no idea how to make it better, but felt awful not doing anything.

He knocked cautiously on the door to he and Louis’s room. He waited for an answer, not really expecting one, and when he received nothing, he went ahead and went in. Louis was still under the comforter, but now he was on his back, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hi,” Harry hedged. Louis didn’t respond at first, then gave a minuscule sigh.

“Just leave me alone, Harry.”

“Louis, I want to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. It’s fine. I just want to be alone.”

“We’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be. Just go make out with Zayn and I’m sure you’ll forget about me.” That hit Harry hard, and he stood in the middle of the room for a moment, shocked and hurt. Finally, when Louis offered nothing more to say, he left with a tangible, physical ache in his chest.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kind of rushed through the end sorry  
> comments? x

Louis knew he was being ridiculous. He really did. He knew that he had no right to be offended at Harry and Zayn making out, but he’d let his jealousy get in the way, and that angered him even more. It made it even worse when Harry and Zayn came in his room. With Zayn, he’d just felt sick to his stomach, thinking of their bodies pressed together, Harry’s hands tangled in that dark hair. With Harry, he’d felt embarrassed; like a whiny, possessive little prat with a crush. Even worse was when Harry said that they were worried about him. It was obvious he meant “me” and not “we.” He was being an obnoxious little bitch and Harry was concerned about him.

On top of it all, he missed Harry. It was ridiculous, really; they’d only known each other two weeks, but their friendship had developed to the point that Louis hated it being in such a bad state for so long, and all because of him. Honestly, he was more angry at himself than anyone else.

About two hours after Harry had come into his room, Louis rolled out of bed and trudged across the hall. The flat was dark, except for the faint flickering light from the television in the living room. He saw a crack of light coming from the red room and opened the door a crack. He poked his head inside. Liam was on his bed, his back against the wall and a book on his lap. His bed was in such a position that Louis was in conversation distance with him from the door.

“Liam,” Louis whispered. “Is Zayn in here?” Liam looked up and shook his head. Louis opened the door all of the way and shut it as he came in. Niall was a tuft of blond hair and a red lump of comforter on his bed. He peeked out at Louis as he came in, then sat up.

“What the hell happened?” Niall asked, his voice slightly groggy. “I wake up from a nap and Zayn is knocked out in the chair, Harry is drinking a beer in the kitchen, and you two are in here?” Louis sighed and crawled into Zayn’s bed. Liam raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. “Was it because of the thing by the pool last night?” Louis nodded, not sure if Niall could see him, but he had a feeling the answer was clear.

Zayn spent the night in the chair. He woke up at about two am, stayed up for an hour drowning himself in self-pity, then went back to sleep, too tired to go back in his room and not feeling like sharing the room with Liam. Harry had one beer, then went to sleep, leaving about half of the food he’d prepared on the stove. Niall had eaten the majority of what was gone, and he’d had a little himself.

He slept alone that night, the room lonely and quiet. He figured Louis would have gone into the red room, but a small part of him was still disappointed when he entered the empty room.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

The next two days were awkward and lonely for everyone. Louis and Niall left the flat together on Saturday at around two, and didn’t come back until midnight. Liam stayed in his room, mostly, but went out to the back and worked out for a while. Zayn and Harry lazed around in the living area, not really talking, just pretending to watch what was on television and lost in their thoughts. That night, Zayn and Harry slept in the purple room, and the other three slept in the red room.

Sunday was even more tense; one their previous days off, they’d all gone to the park and played football or swam or just done something _together_ , but now they each kept to themselves. Harry busied himself in the kitchen, making his favorite, elaborate sugar cookies recipe, just to occupy his mind. Louis sat out by the pool the entire day, occasionally swimming but mostly letting the sun dry every drop of water off of his skin. Liam read in his room; Niall lounged in front of the television. Zayn went out and wandered the streets along the block. He spent a good hour in a music store, then another two in a book store. They slept the same way they had the night before.

Monday morning, Harry was awoken by the sharp ringing of his phone. Zayn groaned from Louis’s bed and rolled over. Harry grabbed the phone grudgingly and answered it.

“H’lo?”

“Harry, what the _hell_?” Harry groaned.

“Gem, it’s nine am.”

“I am fully aware of that. I watched the new episode last night. What the hell is going on?”

“If you watched the episode, you know what’s going on.”

“ _Harry_. I mean what’s going on with you? Why haven’t you made up with Louis yet? I’ve never seen you make a friend that fast. You can’t just give him up.”

“I’m not, Gem. I tried to talk to him, but he wouldn’t have it.”

“Harry, that is bullshit. I’ve talked to him once and I know that boy has it bad for you. You can straighten up this whole house if you just go to him.” She laughed. “It’s kind of funny, actually. The way everyone kind of revolves around him.” Harry sighed.

“Isn’t he great?”

“See, even you’re whipped for him. Jesus, Harry! I’m telling you, this could all be fixed if you just come clean and tell him how you feel.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut.

“Fine.”

“Good. Now go back to sleep.”

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Liam was reading in his room when Harry came in. He offered the tall boy a small smile, and Harry ventured to join him on his bed. He took a deep breath and plunged right in.

“So . . . you’re not mad at me, are you?” Liam closed his book and adjusted his position slightly.

“No. A little jealous, maybe.” He offered a tentative smile. A similar, dimpled smile found its way to Harry’s lips.

“Good. I mean, good you’re not mad. I – I’m sorry about me and Zayn.” Liam shrugged.

“It’s okay. I was never really mad. I just empathize with Louis, I guess.” Harry nodded.

“Can I . . . can I tell you something?”

“Sure.”

“I was never, like, popular, right? I was always kind of an outcast, and I was really shy. I was never really interested in girls . . . and not many were interested in me. Once it got to be known that I rejected pretty much any girl who expressed interest, no one bothered anymore. I didn’t have very many friends. I was the kid always eating lunch by myself, y’know? So . . . when somebody like Zayn showed interest in me, even if it was just to make out, it was kind of overwhelming, but I just didn’t hesitate.” He sighed. “I actually really like Louis.”

“So why aren’t you telling him?” Harry balked.

“What?”

“Why aren’t you telling him this? I mean . . . it might help.”

“You think?” Liam nodded.

“I think he’s in the hot tub.”

“There’s a hot tub?” Liam laughed.

“Yeah. It’s kind of in a weird position. Just go out to the pool and go right.” Harry nodded, then gave Liam a big grin.

“Thanks.”

Harry changed quickly into his swim trunks and went out to the pool. Zayn and Niall paid him no attention as he passed the living room and slid out the door. His heart beat hard in his chest as he followed the directions Liam had given him. There indeed was a hot tub, along with a pool table, that were partially concealed by an odd inverse corner of the building. Louis was in the hot tub, his back to Harry. He looked over as Harry walked into his peripheral vision.

“Can I join?” Harry asked, trying not to stare at the scrawled tattoo taking up the older boy’s chest reading “It Is What It Is.”

Louis gave a small nod and Harry stepped into the pool. Louis didn’t bother to try and hide his eyes dipping over the boy’s body, noticing the way his muscles flexed and moved under his skin. Louis briefly imagined running his hands over that skin, feeling how soft it was, his fingertips skating across the muscle. He’d seen Harry swimming before and noticed that there were quite a few tattoos scattered across his skin, but now he could see all of them in detail: the two birds facing each other on his chest, the large ship covering part of his upper left arm, the two hands shaking slightly below and behind the ship, the large butterfly showcasing its wings across his abs. Harry lowered himself into the water, completely unaware to Louis checking him out.

Louis swallowed thickly, arousal threading through his veins. Harry had to force himself to keep his eyes off of Louis’s body, even what little he could see of it.

“I, um, I wanted to talk to you,” Harry started nervously.

“Shoot.” Harry took a deep breath and recited what he’d told Liam. He kept his eyes looking down at his hands underneath the water, focusing on keeping his voice steady. Louis watched him evenly, managing to push aside the thoughts of running his hands over the toned muscles.

“And, honestly, Louis . . . our kiss in Spin the Bottle was better than anything I did with Zayn.”

“Really?” Harry finally brought his gaze up to meet Louis’s.

“Yeah.” A wide smile formed quickly across Louis’s lips, touching his eyes and making them crinkle at the sides. He let out a small laugh, then a louder, more open one. Harry felt a bit of heat touch his cheeks. “What?”

“Not like I didn’t enjoy it, but – that kiss was hardly a kiss.” Harry smiled sheepishly and looked down at his hands again.

“Still.” He was rewarded with that eye-crinkling grin, this time not followed by a laugh. “We can always practice, anyway,” Harry murmured, blushing more deeply.

He looked up, and suddenly, Louis was closer to him, the grin gone, his face serious. There was still a respectable distance between them, and as Harry looked into the other boy’s bright blue eyes, he realized Louis was leaving the decision up to him – he could stay in his place or scoot closer. Without any hesitation, Harry nudged closer, bringing their faces mere inches apart.

Louis made the move, bringing their lips together in a gentle, lingering kiss. Harry’s head immediately went spinning, but different from the way it had spun so much recently from alcohol; this was a spinning that made everything a blur yet clear at the same time. His tummy fluttered and spun as well, even more so when Louis’s hand found its way to his thigh.

They pulled apart, Louis’s hand not moving position, and the older boy immediately started talking.

“I was always really popular,” he spat out, the words tumbling out of his mouth like he was throwing them up. “Everything I wanted, I got it. I guess I was kind of the stereotypical gay kid. I was in theater, and football, too. My friends and I, Hannah and Stan, were kind of on top, you know? I was out, and guys flirted with me all of the time. I had boyfriends, but none of them were really serious. I guess . . . it’s different, for me, how much I like you. That’s why I got so jealous . . . because I actually cared that you were with someone else.”

Harry grinned at him, cupping his neck and pulling him back into a kiss.

“We’re an odd pair,” he murmured when they pulled apart. Louis smirked at him.

“Who says that’s a bad thing?” he whispered, and connected their lips again.


End file.
